


Lost Eden

by faceless_marionette



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26745133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faceless_marionette/pseuds/faceless_marionette
Summary: “I can see the sun, but even if I cannot see the sun, I know that it exists. And to know that the sun is there - that is living.”― Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Lost Eden

The bundle of cherub tugs the coverlet closer to her petite form. She whispers incoherent words in her sleep, shifting a bit to find a comfortable spot. She sighs and snores softly. Her dainty nose crinkles slightly with every breath she takes. Alastor smiles. He finds her sleeping tendencies endearing. Who knew Charlotte Magne snores in her sleep? He chuckles to himself.

The sun has yet to rise, but Alastor is wide awake. Naked as a babe on the bed, save for the duvet covering his nature. He studies his sleeping darling. Innocent like an angel. But the way she screamed his name last night says that she was no innocent--only to him that is. He owns her voice, just like how he owns everything that is her. He imprints his mark, from the strand of her blonde hair to the tip of her fingers. She chose him after all. He was the Adam of Eve.

Alastor gingerly removes himself from the bed, wrapping a silk robe around his willowy frame. He leans down and tucks a stray lock behind Charlie’s ear. He steps into the balcony. A cold breeze nips his skin, but it does not matter. He stares at the blood moon amidst the sky: The sole burning coal of the night. Vibrant red reflects his eyes. To become the High King, one must become Adam. To be Adam, one must claim the heart of Eve.  _ The heart of Charlie.  _ He snaps his fingers, a lighted cigar manifests. He takes a whiff. Tendrils of smoke dances along with the breeze. He gazes back to the sleeping dame. Her silky locks pool on the bed. Her lithe body shrouded by the sheets. The claiming of Eve is done.

He takes another whiff. The nicotine relaxes his senses. A strong wind ruffles his hair. He throws the unfinished cigar with a flick. The ignited end glows in the darkness, but he tramples it. The burn sears his skin but it does not hurt. He lets himself back to the chamber.

His chest feels heavy: a deep hole inside of him. Why is that? He has Eve’s heart, one step nearer to the throne and another, the kingdom will be his. He should be ecstatic. So close to what he desires.

The bed creaks when he delicately cradles Charlie. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her to his chest. She stirs, eyes still shut. Deep was she in her slumber. Alastor buries his face on her neck. He closes his eyes, taking in her apple blossom scent. His chest feels lighter, feels as serene as ocean waves. He opens his eyes and sees the flowers wilt. The daffodils she placed on the bedside table.

The air becomes thin. Cold wind no longer attends to their presence. The chirps of the night crickets halted. The vibrancy of the red moon dulled. A flicker. A brief moment of weakness. Alastor releases Charlie like she was painful to touch. The belle groans but she does not wake up. Alastor inches backward. The emptiness returns with a deeper fall. The knot in his chest becomes tighter, but night blooms brighter. He knows what he has to do.

Alastor watches Charlie for the longest moment, eyes memorizing every detail of her form: her golden tresses that smell like lavenders, her doe eyes that shine with life, her pink lips that kiss him so many times, and her whimsical smiles that invigorates his days. He engraves them in his mind, not a trace left uncherished

For this is the end. Alastor laughs. Venom drips in his voice. “My last supper.”

To become the High King, one must become Adam. To be Adam, one must claim the heart of Eve. With the heart of Eve in his clutch, the High King rises and rules alone. For he is God, and God does not feel. God does not show weakness; otherwise, destruction befalls unto Eden.

Alastor treads backward to the balcony. His eyes not leaving Charlie. He stands on the edge of the rail. Arms wide apart like a man nailed to a cross, as he basks in the blooded moonlight. He stares. He closes his eyes and falls into the dark abyss of his shadows.

* * *

**Note:**

**I would be happy if you were to state how you understand the end. I made it a bit ambiguous you see, hence I want to hear your perspectives.**


End file.
